My husband snores. Most of the time it is a gentle rumbling that can even be a comfort in the night. Once I read an advice column where a woman wrote in complaining about her snoring mate. She said he was a faithful husband, had a great sense of humor, was a loving father, made a good living, etc. Snoring was her only complaint. The columnist wrote back and said with a husband such as she described the snoring should be music to her ears.

Except it’s not. Even with an altogether wonderful husband, a woman can sometimes feel murderous in the middle of the night.

Recently, Joe’s snoring got worse. Way worse. We had just moved to a new home and bought a new bed. The first few nights it sounded as if a freight train was going through the room.

When I shook him awake (he tells me to do that), he didn’t even know where he was. He claimed exhaustion from the move. He was sleeping very deeply.

A week went by and the loud snoring continued. He tried those snoring strips and a nose spray. I went online and scared myself reading sleep studies about apnea. We used a white noise machine. I put in ear plugs. I thought I needed to find another place to sleep. Maybe in another house.

“I miss Fluffy and Flatty,” my husband admitted one night. (You have to love a man who names his pillows.) His pillows are aptly named. Fluffy, stuffed with goose down, is still quite high after many years. Fatty is a thin layer of foam.

With the new bed – now king-sized – we had purchased new bedding: lots of giant pillows, and the old ones were relegated to a basement closet.

Well, it’s hard to believe, but now with Fluffy and Flatty’s return, the snoring is back to a gentle buzz. Hard to believe it was that simple, but it was.